


Hey, Pig, Nothing's Turning Out the Way I Planned

by Trent_In_A_Tree



Category: Marilyn Manson (Band), Nine Inch Nails (Band)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Choking, Dominance, Edging, Light Sadism, M/M, Sex, gay shit right here, i mean only a lIL but, its not that kinky for sth id write lik??, minor sadism but like REALLY NOT TRIGGERING AT ALL BC LIKE ITS VERY EMOTIONAL, ok lets get into the legit tags now jokes and all aside, that was supposed to say like stfu, the ending isnt happy lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 05:51:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11201769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trent_In_A_Tree/pseuds/Trent_In_A_Tree
Summary: ...Trent found himself not caring anymore that everything was so, so wrong, because he was underneath Marilyn, and that was all he really wanted.ORTrent misses Marilyn, despite their relationship making him feel sick, and willingly walks back into the situation.  Angst with a side of hot gay sex.





	Hey, Pig, Nothing's Turning Out the Way I Planned

**Author's Note:**

> Sadly, I don't own Trent or Marilyn. I'm getting a little tired of saying that shit, because it reminds me of how incredibly sad my life is. Why can't I own rockstars; what unfair shit is this? Anyway. Most of this was written while partially drunk. That is not an excuse. It is still very good.

Trent was used to the lonely nights and the surge of pain in his chest that wrapped around his ribcage when he woke up alone. He had grown used to the way that bodies felt against his hands, one after the other, too soft or too small or just not Marilyn. That was what he wanted, after all. It would have been a lie to tell himself that he could truly love any woman or man the way he loved stupid fucking Brian Hugh Warner. Every time Trent's eyes fell shut, a sickly feeling welled in his stomach and every part of his body yearned to feel sharp fingers jamming into his hips, soft lips pressed against his shoulder, and soft hair brushing over him.

But Trent had done what he always did. Every time he fell in love too hard, he pushed it away. The feeling that started as love turned into the same feeling he felt when alcohol spilled into his stomach; rotten, diseased, and sharp. Of course, it was warm. It was warm, but it was disgusting. Because Trent knew that however much anyone loved him, he did not deserve it. And when Trent spit out angry words, he felt an odd sense of relief when the sharp fingers that usually dug into his hips pressed against his neck. He felt deserving when a cold hand connected with his face and when a harsh, "Fuck you." landed like spit landed on his face. 

He wasn't surprised when he watched the leather clad thin sillohuette legs center over the streetlight's glow for the last time as Marilyn left, for what Trent knew was the last time. He felt ice crack inside his chest, the warmth, the sickly warmth, disappearing. He wondered dumbly whether he preferred to feel ill or to feel cold as he scraped his palm unscrewing the cap of the tequila bottle. He wondered, and then he brought the top to his lips, the stain of alcohol burning his lips, cut and bitten nervously from his own teeth. Trent's eyes didn't water anymore when the sharp liquor coursed down his throat, although his stomach still turned at the disgusting warmth.

Trent Reznor promised himself he'd never fall and trip again. Trent Reznor made an MTV appearance, Trent Reznor released an album. He tried to forget, he tried to let the feeling of alcohol tainting his stomach replace the feeling of lost love, if he was even willing to call it that. Yet, Marilyn infiltrated. Always, always, he did. Trent wanted to hit himself when he whispered, "Without you, everything falls apart." into the microphone the first time. 

And, when Trent found himself missing Marilyn again, he forgot the feeling of sickness it had tainted him with. He missed the taste of cigarette fingers passing his lips and he missed his thighs being pushed apart while hearing that familiar deep voice whisper, "You're beautiful." He missed their hands twisted together, either while laughing together, or while being shoved into on the bed, the room spinning. His missed it so much, it broke his heart. 

A typical night passed, except now Trent had three empty bottles scattered around him when he was still awake at two o' clock AM. And he made a decision. Trent picked up the phone, dialing a phone number he hadn't dialed in years, but that he remembered clear as day. 

"Who's this?" Drowsily echoed a familiar voice on the other end of the line and Trent's heart shot into his throat as warmth filled his chest and he smiled to himself.

"You know," Trent spoke, "I know this is jive and gay, but I love you."

There was silence and breathing and then a soft little laugh that would have been the most beautiful thing to ever slice into Trent's heart if it wasn't _slicing_ him, "I love you too, asshole."

** Starfuckers **

Trent's eyelids were slathered in blue and his arms were stronger than they were before. He hadn't had tequila coursing through his system for a month, and it had been worth it because now his eyes connected with beautifully familiar dark ones.

"Hi." Marilyn's thick lips were clenched shut tightly and his hands were clenched nervously on his waistband.

Trent smiled uncharacteristically shyly at Marilyn, his heart frozen from the shock but also familiarity of seeing the man again. Marilyn was exactly how Trent remembered him; it was nice to know that the unique beauty in his dark eyes and the clever attitude that permeated his grin was not something Trent had fabricated in the name of love.

"There's a limo." Trent said, then added, "It's gonna be used for the filming. Wanna sit inside, catch up…."

Marilyn nodded and the two men walked close to each other, their hands uncomfortably close to intertwining. Trent could feel Marilyn's breath as he opened the limousine door, sliding gracefully over the leather seats to the other side, leaving room for Marilyn. Marilyn shut the door behind the two of them.

"I'm not here to fuck--" Trent began, eyeing Marilyn's deep dark eyes which scrolled over him like molasses. 

"Fuck you." Marilyn spat, and pressed his lips to Trent's, cutting off his breath.

The sound of fingers scrabbling roughly against clothing and deep carnal whines was amplified inside of the limousine. It seemed to build until the kiss broke, both men blasting for air.

"It's been years." Marilyn said.

"I missed you." Trent said, his hands against Marilyn's face, pulling their mouthes back together. 

Trent knew it would never be the same, his hands tracing down the sides of Marilyn's milky neck, but then again, he wasn't sure that he wanted it to be. Marilyn threw his head back, thick, lipstick covered lips parted, and dark sleek hair brushing over Trent's fingers, his expression inherently whorish. Trent missed that.

Trent let his hand trace Marilyn's neck until it cupped the milk white skin in a chokehold, which was really much more for show. Wordlessly, Marilyn slid his hand, so large compared to Trent's, up his wrist like a large, pale spider, and grasped, pushing Trent's arm back and pushing Trent himself back on the leather seat of the limousine. Trent let Marilyn push him, the satisfaction of his back hitting the leather by force excited him.

"I lost my shit because of you." Marilyn whispered softly, and Trent's mouth curled up at the corner because of the reference.

"Heeeey, pig…" Trent trailed off, his blue slathered eyes falling shut and his smirk curling lazily.

Trent was stopped in his tracks when Marilyn wrapped his hand around Trent's neck in a chokehold, starting out soft like Trent's, but then Marilyn's fingers wound tight, clamping on Trent's neck. Trent let out a soft squeak and Marilyn laughed in the back of his somewhat bitterly. He ran a finger over Trent's lips.

"Nothing can stop me…." 

Trent whined somewhat needily and Marilyn pressed the finger that sat against Trent's lips into his mouth.

"Forgot how soft your lips were." Marilyn grunted, and Trent whined against the finger in his mouth, against the hand around his neck, against the body pressed to his.

Marilyn slipped another finger into Trent's mouth, lazily fucking the fingers against his tongue. Trent wrapped his lips tight against Marilyn's fingers, his dark, green flecked eyes making contact with Marilyn's brown ones. Trent's flower mouth quivered against Marilyn's fingers, his eyes wide and Marilyn would have pinned fear as Trent's emotion. Trent's growing bulge pressed against Marilyn's leg contradicted that.

"You like being scared underneath me, huh?" Marilyn grinned and pressed his thigh hard into Trent's bulge.

Trent's eyes fell shut and he let out a soblike moan, his fingers desperately scrabbling over Marilyn's back. Marilyn laughed softly, the warm sounded curling around Trent's heart and he bucked against Marilyn's thigh again, whining somewhat pitifully against the fingers in his mouth. Marilyn let Trent's neck free, wrapping fingers gently around his thigh and then sliding up, caressing his growing erection gently. Trent sobbed openly against Marilyn's fingers, and Marilyn squeezed harder.

In a rush, Trent's pants were pulled down to his knees and Marilyn's fingers were out of his mouth, dry, and buried in his hair, pushing his head back. Marilyn hooked his fingers around the waistband of Trent's underwear.

"These are pretty. Did you wear them for me?" Marilyn inquired, pink fabric digging into his fingers as he pulled the underwear harshly into Trent's crotch.

"No." Trent said defiantly, moaned when Marilyn harshly pulled again, "Alright, yes."

"Still such a good boy after so long." Marilyn commented, pulling Trent's underwear down his thighs without warning, "And the pretty cock was no figment of my imagination, I see."

Trent whined and Marilyn kissed his mouth too hard, teeth hitting awkwardly. He wrapped his fingers around Trent's cock and split their kiss, a smack sound resounding. 

Marilyn ran his thumb, guitar callused and ungraceful, over the tip of Trent's cock, and yes, it hurt, but it was so good, just like Marilyn always was. Trent bucked into Marilyn's hand, and Marilyn stroked faster, the whole situation feeling like a dream because it had been so long and yet something was still so off from how it had been before, but Trent still wasn't sure whether he wanted it to be the same. Trent whined loudly and Marilyn's lips were on his again, and Trent found himself not caring anymore that everything was so, so wrong, because he was underneath Marilyn, and that was all he really wanted.

"You gonna cum, huh?" Marilyn growled, fingers still so roughly delightful against Trent's cock, the other hand digging into his hip just how he'd remembered. 

"Oh, yeah…" Trent moaned, his body throbbing in desperation, "Please."

"Beg for it." Marilyn's tone was harsh and unsympathetic, and Trent just loved it oh so much.

"Please… I've been good." Trent whined.

"What about the last few fucking years?" Marilyn spat.

"Now isn't the time…. Please." Trent cried out. 

"You're fucking self centered as hell…" Marilyn's mouth curved down.

"Goddamnit, Brian. Let me cum!" Trent spat, between rapid breathes.

" _Fuck_ you." Marilyn impulsively slapped Trent in the face, hard, "Just fuck you."

"P-please." Trent whined, his eyes filling with tears again.

"You're fucking getting off on this, and I'm suffering!!" Marilyn spat, hitting Trent's face again, two rings colliding with his cheek, and Trent could smell blood.

"Goddamnit, Mr. Piss and Shit and Sugar, I-Am-A-Badass, fucking let me cum!" Trent spat angrily, then whined, turning Marilyn's insides, " _Please_."

"You always fucking win. I hate you." Marilyn's fingers stroked Trent again, "I _hate_ you!"

"Jack me off like you hate me." Trent whispered breathily, and Marilyn obliged, fingers pulling Trent's hair so hard tears came to his eyes and stroking over his cock with too much force.

" _Yes_ …" Trent trailed off, as his vision throbbed, "I'm gonna…"

Marilyn let go of Trent's cock just as he came, cum spiting up onto his stomach. Trent let out a soft moan of Marilyn's name.

"You know, it's never going to be the same." Marilyn said softly.

Trent sighed, scratching his forehead lazily as if his stomach was coated in cum, "I'm not sure I want it to be."

"I hate you." Marilyn whispered softly, "I really do. But I love you too."

"Fuck you, you faggot goth." Trent spat, then smiled, "Gimme a kiss."

Marilyn smiled, and leaned down, pressing a kiss to Trent's lips.

The moment would have been perfect if the sickly warmness wasn't reforming in Trent's stomach, but it was. _Here we go again._


End file.
